Episode One
by Aravis'sSilverQuill
Summary: An assortment of episode's following the somewhat messed up live's of Angelina Johnson and her Montague.
1. Episode One

**Episode One: AnAnxious Escape ForSex**

Angelina Johnson rushed down the stairs at the sound of her doorbell. Hastily she wrapped a dark green dressing gown around her wet body and made her way towards the door, shaking water from her hair and out of her face in the process.

"I'm coming Matthew!" She called, looking over at the small clock in her living room that told her it was almost half past eight in the evening. Matthew was early.

The doorbell rang a few times over, the person waiting at the door becoming rather inpatient. "I'm coming, I'm coming. . .just give me a minute!" Angelina ran over to the door and pulled it open, the broad grin that was once settled over her expression due to the early arrival of her fiancé suddenly falling into a seductive smirk.

"What do you want Montague?" Angelina folded her arms across her chest and looked up at the tall handsome figure that stood before her, the same cause for grin stretched across his face. Montague stepped into the house and slammed the door shut behind him, casually wiping his feet on the door matt before taking a step in towards Angelina. Angelina took a teasing step back.

"You know perfectly well what I want." He said, his deep voice sending the usually chills up her and down her spine as she concentrated on not breaking his eye contact. Montague's eyes always managed to swallow her into a cruel void of ecstasy. So dark and thoughtful. Angelina could never really get over her fetish for the 'bad guys.'

She chuckled, playfully sucking on her finger and stepping deeper into the living room, away from Montague's approaching figure.

"I thought I told you," She said, patronising him "I don't play with little boys."

Montague continued to step in closing. He shrugged off his t-shirt and threw it to the ground. "Call this little?" He gestured to his torso, an eyebrow raised as he watched Angelina's eye's skirt hungrily over his body. He grinned. "I didn't think so." And look a long step forward, Angelina took another step back.

"But Montague," She pouted, her expression running away with it's teasing look and settling for the innocence. Montague would have fallen for it, but her eye's begged to differ. "whatever happened to pretty Pansy?"

"Her?" Montague growled deep within his throat. He looked a little annoyed. "The bitch wouldn't give it up." He said, pushing aside a small coffee table that stood between him and his prey. She looked very edible tonight.

"Why's that?" Asked Angelina, walking backwards into the kitchen. Montague followed up behind her and pushed that door shut too.

Montague sniggered, towering over Angelina as her back hit the kitchen counter and she finally stopped moving away from him. Speedily he knocked everything that rested on the counter to the floor and lifted her. She giggled at his impatience, allowing him to lay her down on the counter and eye her figure lustfully.

"You still haven't told me why she didn't sleep with you." Said Angelina, looking up at him as his hands snaked their way over her robes.

Montague shrugged. "I called out a different name last night." He said this as if their was no matter to the problem. Angelina's eyes grew wide as he jumped onto the counter and straddled her, leaning over her body and sucking hungrily on her neck, growling contently as she felt him harden against her leg.

"Who's fucking name did you call out Montague?" He could feel her heart rate quicken again his chest.

"Yours." Came his muffled reply.

Angelina thought she might collapse. She pushed angrily at Montague's chest and sat up underneath him, looking at him angrily. "Are you stupid or something?"

"No." Montague replied, and went back to sucking on her neck but she pushed him off. Now he seemed irritated. "Bitch, are we fucking going to do this or not? I'm not getting rejected twice in one night."

"Montague if you don't stop this rubbish someone's going to find out!" She hissed at him. Montague only shrugged. "Montague!" Angelina yelled.

"What's the fun in it if we keep acting like we care?"

"I _do_ care!" She said frantically.

"Why?" He looked confused.

Angelina observed him as if he had gone off his rockers. "I don't know if you've noticed Montague, but I'm Matthew's fiancé!"

"You don't belong to him." He said firmly. "You belong to me."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "You're crazy." She sighed. "Absolutely crazy."

"No I'm not." He defended himself. "I'm just obsessive. And your _mine_ Johnson you got that? _Mine_. Now am I going to get a shag out of you or what?"

Angelina shook her head. "I'm not in the mood anymore-"

"Wha-_WHAT_? Johnson you can't do this to me-"

_**-BOOM-**_

Angelina looked over Montague's shoulder and Montague turned to look at the kitchen door. "What was that?" She asked, panic written all over her face.

Montague jumped down from the counter and Angelina followed suit. "You expecting visitors?" He asked and she shook her head.

"You have to leave!" She whispered frantically.

"What?" Montague looked taken aback. "No way I'm not leaving you here!"

"But what if it's Matthew?"

"What if it isn't?"

Angelina rolled her eyes, tightening the knot in her belt on her house coat. "Montague just go!" She hissed. "This is my house!"

"I'm not leaving!"

"MONTAGUE LEAVE _NOW!_"

"No!"

"Montague!" Both Angelina and Montague jumped at the sound of another voice, seeping through the kitchen door and spitting loathsomely at their ears. "I know you're here Montague! You came to fuck that bitch!"

"Pansy!" Angelina and Montague both realised at the same time.

"She followed me here!" Montague fumed, while Angelina fretted.

"I'm screwed!" She said, looking around the room for her wand or somewhere she could escape to. "What am I going to do?"

"Quit feeling sorry for yourself, Johnson. There are plenty other fish in the sea. Mainly me." He grabbed Angelina my the arm and dug deep into his pockets for his wand. He squirmed at how tight his trousers felt around his manhood.

"What are you going?" Angelina asked, struggling to get free of Montague's hold on her.

"I'm taking you to my cottage house in Scotland." Angelina gasped and struggled harder.

"What about Matthew?" She hissed.

Montague shrugged. "You can come back to him when your done." Then he seemed to have second thoughts. "Actually, fuck Matthew. Your staying with me."

"**_WHAT!_**" She screamed, but in an instant, they were both gone.

_**-POP-**_

Pansy Parkinson stormed through the kitchen door after she'd heard it, her wand brandished dangerously as she aimed to kill. But nothing. They were both gone.

Parkinson ran out of the house and into the backyard. She searched everywhere, but there was still no one to be found.

She screamed and yelled at the nights sky. "No one screws _me_ over Montague, NO ONE." Quite ironically, a sheet of lightening ripped through the nights sky, and rain decided to fall ever so lightly.

With a faint **_-POP-_** Parkinson was gone.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"I'll see you later mates!" Matthew waved to Fred and George through the shop window and smiled to himself, content with the idea that he had his fiancé waiting for him at home.

"I hate that bastard." Fred whispered to George, smiling at Matthew Lewis-Thomson as he waved back to them through the window. "I don't see what she likes in him."

"Stop being an ass Fred." George hissed. "Just wave and pretend you like him, for Angelina's sake." George gave Matthew a cheery goodbye, his façade slipping as soon as Matthew had left Diagon Alley.

"Bastard." They both synced, and got back to their costumers.

_**-POP-**_

Matthew walked into his house and called out to the empty rooms. "Honey, I'm home." He walked in through the kitchen and his heart suddenly stopped, the mess of the kitchen sending thousands of different thoughts rushing through his mind at once. Poor Matthew didn't have a clue.

**End of Episode One**


	2. Episode Two

**Episode Two: Anger, Lies and Unspoken Owl's.**

_Dear Fred or George, (whichever one of you get this first . . .)_

_Something's happened that's caused me to have to leave home straight away. Don't worry though! It's nothing bad I promise, I just had to leave as soon as possible. Family business and all. It's complicated._

_Anyway, I'm sending this really rushed note to you guys because for some reason, any time I give the owl a letter with the name _Matthew Lewis-Thomson _written on it, the stupid things doesn't want to deliver. . ._

_So Fred, George. . .whoever! I'm asking you as my best friends to pass this message onto Matthew when you see him okay? Tell him I'm fine and that he shouldn't worry himself. Please? Make sure he knows I'm safe. I know him, if he doesn't know where I've got to he'll have a heart attack. . .and we don't want that to happen do we? (Do we Fred? No messing with his head while I'm gone, you hear!)_

_I love you both!_

_Angie_

_P.S: Frederick Weasley, if you shove this letter in your pocket without delivering the message to Matthew first. . .I promise I will find you and hurt you!_

_P.S.S: Tell Matthew not to try and contract any of my family. . .because they'll only tell him I'm not there._

"Fred, George! Please, one of you. You've got to help me!"

Fred skimmed over the letter twice to himself before pushing it deep down into his pocket and sauntering out to the front of the shop. He couldn't help but surrender to the huge grin that plastered itself onto his face the moment his eyes took in Matthew _snotty _Lewis _fart-brain _Thomson. His hair stuck out in sections as if he had been pulling on it all day, and his face had paled over. His eyes wide with shock.

Fred never could see what Angelina saw in him.

"Something the matter mate?" Fred asked, the concern in his voice ever so hard to place.

From his seat behind the counter, George gave Fred a questioning look before turning back towards the frantic man before him. "What's wrong?" He asked through a somewhat bad attempt to stifle a yawn.

George was shattered.

Matthew pulled on a few of his locks because answering. Irritably he thumped his fists onto the shop counter and regarded the identical red heads before him. They were Angelina's best friends, if anyone was to know of her whereabouts it would most certainly be them. . .

"Sorry mate, I haven't heard from her since yesterday." Said Fred, running his hands though his hair.

"But you're her best friends!" Shrilled Matthew. "Surely you know where she's got to!"

George looked over at Fred, regarded his expression for a while then turned back to Matthew. His eyebrows drew together in deep thought. Twin instinct was kicking in. "Let me take you to the back, and er. . .we can have a chat over some nice coffee." George got up and walked briskly around the counter, steering Matthew into the back room. Before they left completely he shot Fred a weary look over his shoulder. Fred only shrugged, his hands buried deep into his pockets.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Are you _stupid_?" She shrilled, throwing her hands up into the air as she watched Montague step out of the bathroom. His clothes hastily thrown onto his still wet body. His hair hanging dark and damp. Angelina tried not to succumb to how incredibly sexy he looked right then.

Montague only shrugged. "Not really." He reached out to stroke her face but she hit his hand away before it could proceed. "Oh _come on_ Johnson! You know you can't resist me."

"I so can!" She yelled, though her mind didn't quite match her spoken words. She averted her eyes to the ground, focusing hard on anything but him. Angelina knew that if she let her focus wander to his gaze, she'd be gone for good. His deep, dark thoughtful eyes always managed to swallow her whole. Always managed to read her thoughts and cause her to loose herself in it's teasing void of everlasting ecstasy.

She hated the bugger for always managing to get her so turned on!

"Look at me then." Montague once again reached out to touch her, his hands cupping her chin and steering her in his direction.

Before she met his gaze, Angelina took a few agitated steps backwards. Her eyes still focusing entirely on the floor. "Screw you!"

Montague took an excited step forwards and began to unbutton his shirt. "Finally!"

"No you idiot." Angelina jumped backwards at his approach, knowing she'd fall if she let him touch her. Any time he did she managed to ignite. "I'm mean screw you as in you're an ass whole!"

Montague sighed and stopped in his tracks. He looked almost miserable, and Angelina would have fallen for it if his latter choice of words didn't differ completely with his actions. "You never told me you liked it like that!"

Angelina looked up at Montague and for the first time in a long while, burst out laughing. Although Montague looked ever so bewildered, he still managed to grin at her reaction. "What?"

"I thought you were supposed to be a big boy?" She teased, sauntering over to him and walking her fingers playfully across his chest.

"I am!" Montague retaliated, feeling slightly perplexed. He tried to ignore how tight his trousers were becoming once again.

"Then why wont you let me go home! Listen, we'll make a deal okay?" Angelina cocked her head upwards and looked into Montague's eyes. So dark and full. He was so sexy!

"I'm listening." Montague didn't seem to blink. He was slowly hypnotizing her. She could feel herself giving in. . .

"Well, how about this. You take me home, and tomorrow you can have me _all_ to yourself. How does that sound?"

"Like a load of shit." Reluctantly, Montague pushed away her hand and went to recline on one of the sofas in his richly decorated living room.

"**_What_**?" Angelina shrilled. "You HAVE to take me home! Matthew'll have a fit!"

Montague shrugged. "How many times have I told you? You're not his any more, you belong to me. I thought you of all people would understand that. I mean, aren't Gryffindors at least second dumbest after Hufflepuff?"

Angelina ignored the insult. "You basically kidnapped me!"

Montague sighed and closed his eyes. "Didn't know you were into role plays Johnson."

Angelina practically fumed. "I don't. . .I. . .you! Just let me go home and at least _tell _Matthew I can't come home."

"Why should I let you do that?" Montague asked, his eyes still closed.

"Because. . .because-"

"Because? That's all you've got to answer with?"

"NO!"

Montague stood up, once again walking over to Angelina and dominating her figure. "Then, how about we do it right here, right now. . .over and _over_ and _over_ again? Then, after that you can tell me why I should let you go. Or even better, whether you still want to. . ." A quirky smirk spread across Montague's lips. Quirky yet dangerous. He knew exactly what he was doing. Tauntingly he stroked his hand down Angelina's cheek and let it wander over her body. Angelina tingled where she was touched. She closed her eyes shut tight and tried to push him away.

"Montague, just stop. . ." Her voice trailed off as he kissed her neck. His lips travelling lightly over her skin. Angelina let out a sigh and found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. Montague did something that sounded somewhat like a purr, his hands groping at her sides and feeling over her skin. "Shit. . ." Angelina sighed and leaned her head back, allowing Montague to take control as he eagerly ate at her neck. Licking and biting softly enough for her to want more, but she knew he would leave marks for her to have to cover the coming morning. Montague always did.

Rather speedily, Montague lifted one of Angelina's legs and wrapped it around his waist, she let onto his message and lifted her other, wrapping it about his body. Slowly, Montague walked her over to a wall and pushed her back up against it, feeding at her neck all the while. "I told you you wanted me." He growled.

Angelina bit down on her bottom lip, wandering if she could possibly get anymore boiled over. "Fuck off." She said through hurried breaths as her fingers worked at Montague's shirt buttons. Montague sniggered.

"Bitch." He cursed, licking his way over her chin to find her mouth.

"Bastard." Angelina let his tongue warm its way into her mouth, opening it slightly for him to suck on her lips. Montague pushed his pelvis forwards slightly and she giggled. "Am I getting you hot?" She managed to say through Montague's hungry kisses.

"Yeah. . ." He breathed.

"You want me baby?" She teased.

Montague kissed his way down Angelina's body, his hands groping at her chest from under her top. "Oh fuck yes. . ." His reply was barely audible.

Angelina giggled. "Then let me the _fuck_ out! **_NOW_**!" She kicked herself out of Montague's grip and fell to the floor. Getting up she fixed her clothes about her and tightened the knot in her belt on her house coat.

"JONHSON!" Montague fumed from the agony. He rubbed vigorously at his pants to try and get himself back down again. "I swear to God I'm going to-"

"Going to what? Huh Montague?" Angelina taunted. "Tell me because I'm oblivious."

"Stop fucking about with me for Merlin's sake bitch, just shag me already." Montague tried hard not to beg.

"No." Angelina crossed her hands over her chest and stubbornly looked away. "Go shag Parkinson-"

"I don't WANT _Parkinson._" He moaned. "You're a fucking nuisance."

"If I'm such a nuisance then let me go home!"

Montague ignored her. Instead of replying he walked briskly over to the front door, grabbed a long Jacket from the coat hanger and flung open the door.

"Where are you going!" Angelina shrilled, her hands clenched into small fists by her side.

"OUT!" He yelled, and slammed the door shut behind him. Angelina thought she might explode.

**>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> M E A N W H I L E**

Pansy Parkinson rummaged in Montague's bed side draw, papers, books and quills thrown about the floor in the bedroom they both shared in Montague's posh apartment flat in greater London. She had only moved in two weeks ago.

"I'm going to murder her first." Pansy muttered under her breath, her head stuck in a draw as she searched Montague's belongings, looking for anything that might tell her of his whereabouts. "Then," She hissed "I'm going to make him wish he'd never been born."

She rummaged in his draws for the next half an hour, but found nothing. Angrily she stamped around the room, screaming curses under her breath for everyone to hear.

Then it happened.

_**-DING-**_

Parkinson got an idea.

As soon as she had retrieved her wand, Pansy Apparated to Diagon Alley.


	3. Episode Three

**Episode Three: The Two Wondering Seedlings**

_**-POP-**_

Pansy Apparated to Diagon Alley and marched like a soldier ready for battle down the cobbled streets.

Now she'd find the truth.

"Get out of my way!" She yelled at passers by, and shoved people who got within a centimetres distance to her out of her path.

Then she stopped. That bright, flamboyant sign hanging above the shop window. Parkinson narrowed her eyes and her lips formed one long, thin line.

"The Weasely's." She growled demonically under her breath, and golden bell jingled above her head as she walked on into the shop.

"Hello boys," A perky grin walked its way amongst her lips, and her eyes twinkled with false delight. Her fingers curled themselves in mock greeting. "fancy helping out an old school friend?"

>>>>

"This," Angelina rummaged through Montague's walk-in wardrobe and tried to fish out something hard enough to break glass with "is fucking ridiculous!" She picked up a near by shoe and threw it forcefully over to the bedroom window. The shoe hit the glass surface, and was soon hurtled back in her direction. Quickly, Angelina ducked out of the way and Montague's shoe zoomed over her head.

"For heaven's sakes!" She screamed in frustration.

Angelina had tried the downstairs door only seconds after Montague had left, but after minutes of cursing and banging her fists against it, she found it wasn't going to open. Secondly her fervent thoughts told her to try the windows, but she got no where with that. Anytime a finger went to touch the window latch, she was welcomed with an electric shock. Thirdly she tried breaking windows instead of daintily opening them, but we all know where that got her.

Taking a deep breath, Angelina covered her face with her hands and attempted to calm herself.

That's when it happened.

"Shit! What the-" A stinging sensation from above her ankle dragged Angelina out of her thoughts. She glanced down to her ankle and her eyes became saucers.

Screaming for the world to hear she dashed out of Montague's bedroom and ran around the house, her arms waving madly in the air as she tried to escape the demonic creature.

Sicily followed quickly on behind her.

>>>>

Montague took another swig of his drink before slamming it down on the table and readying himself for the walk home. He wouldn't Apparate because that only meant he'd get there faster. No, instead he decided he'd walk, walk the longest route he knew.

As he got up and waved goodbye to Smithy the barman, a tall, leggy red head hopped off of her stool and ambled over to him, her hips swinging so drastically from side to side he wondered how she hadn't broken a bone yet.

Montague ignored her and continued to make his way out of the bar. He got as far as the street corner when he heard her running up behind him. Sighing he turned to her and shook his head. "Not now Kyla, I'm not in the mood."

The truth was, he was in the mood. Actually he was more in the mood than he'd ever been in his life, he just didn't want it with the silicon princess, her mother of course being the queen.

"Oh pure Montague, ur ye sure abit 'at?" Kyla's voice was swimming in a Scottish accent, her lids seductively batting her emerald eyes. She'd been after Montague ever since he brought his grand cottage, located in the forested hills of Aberdeen. Her mother had even tried once or twice herself. They were both failures, but Kyla always knew she had more of a change. Who wouldn't want one with this dashing, rich young man? He was gorgeous! Tall, broad shouldered, dark hair and dark eyes, with a face shrouded in mystery. Kyla McQuilkin always dreamed of the day she would become a Montague.

Montague rolled his eyes. "I mean it Kyla, I'm not in the mood." He attempted to walk away but she stepped in front of him, pouting like a lost puppy.

"Ye cooldn't e'en say awrite, Montague? Hoo lang hae we knoon each other? Ye cooldn't e'en invite me home? I'm sure Ah cood cheer ye up."

She was wearing the shortest skirt he'd ever seen; a pleated black one that when blown by the wind revealed a good amount of her secrets. At her legs she was wearing thin red tights and knee high black boots. For a top she wore a tight sleeveless checked shirt that she'd tied up at the front to reveal her belly piercing and pale stomach. Any other man that was walking past on the street right then would have had the time of his life, but not Montague. He was a flat as a popped balloon.

But then he thought to himself, what the hell? He'd been wanting this for over two days now, and _still _hadn't had any. **TWO DAYS! **It was getting beyond ridiculous. And here Kyla was, handing it over to him on a dinner plate; waiting for him to take it. So why shouldn't he? It wasn't like she was ugly. Sure enough she'd have to work _really _hard for at least the first half hour to blow back up his balloon, but if he just got himself pissed out of his brains he was sure he could just pretend she was a certain Johnson. It wouldn't be so degrading then.

Quickly he scanned the area to make sure no one was listening. "Follow me," He whispered, then added briefly. "but stay at least ten paces behind me, I don't want people to know I'm socializing with you."

Kyla nodded. "I tryst Montague, ye won't regrit thes."

>>>>

Fred looked over at George and George looked over at Fred. Matthew buried his face in his hands and continuously mumbled to himself like a mad man. He hadn't yet acknowledged Pansy's arrival.

"Old friend?" George rose an eyebrow in question. "I think we could say we were anything but that, Pansy."

She waved off his remark as if it was a piece of dust about to make her sneeze. "Now really Fred-"

"I'm George-"

"Who cares!" Fred and George both regarded her with weary glances, while Pansy took a breath and that fake smile assembled itself back onto her lips. "I'm mean to say, what does it matter? You can't judge me on how I was back in school now can you? It wouldn't be just, people change." She ignored Fred's snort and carried on. "I'm here for Johnson, care to tell me where she might be?"

At this Matthew jumped up from his chair, knocking it back in a haste. "Do you know where she is?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "If I did, why would I be here now?"

Matthew nodded his head in a sad acknowledgement and pulled back his chair to sit on it. "Fair enough." He sighed and went back to talking to himself.

It was Fred's turn to speak up next. "She's gone away to her family for a while." George gave Fred a questioning glance and Matthew lifted his head. Pansy simply snarled.

"I thought you said you didn't know where she was?" Inquired Matthew.

"Your lying!" Pansy spat. "What would make her run off to her family in such a haste? I was at her house only last night!"

Matthew turned to Pansy. "You were at my house?"

Pansy looked down at him as if he was a being worse than pathetic. As if he wasn't worthy of being in the same room in which she was forced to breath. "Why would it be your house, fool? I wasn't anywhere near your home."

"Angelina is my fiancée!" He yelled. "If you were at her house then you were at mine!"

"If you were at _her _house then you were at _mine_." Fred mocked childishly under his breath, and George elbowed him in the ribs. "Ouch!"

"Shut it Fred. At least wait till their gone."

A slow, malicious smile assembled itself onto Pansy's lips.

>>>>>

"Mmm, Montague," Kyla wrapped her arms around Montague's waist and purred into his back, while he ruffled in his pockets for the front door keys "I'm tellin' ye yoo've gart th' reit choice, I'll gie ye th' time ay yer life."

"You better hope so." Montague fished out his keys and unlocked the door, ushering Kyla inside before anyone walking by noticed her presence.

Kyla's expression dropped in awe as she looked about her surroundings. Montague's cottage was anything she'd ever dreamt of! Beautiful rich furniture, flush carpet--clean! She'd never seen anything like it. She'd have the regular conversations with her mother about what it must be like to inhabit the Montague Cottage in the rich countryside of Aberdeen. Being a city girl herself didn't mean she hadn't been up to the countryside once or twice, she usual went to have a drink in the Hags Head and have a chat with locals, but she never really had much else to do in that rural part of Aberdeen. Now she hoped Montague would give her something she'd regularly come back for.

Kyla looked horribly out of place in Montague's cottage, but this never dampened her enthusiasm. "Ye hae a bonnie home." She complimented, flashing him one of her cutest smiles.

Montague only waved her off, his ears pricking up as he wondered to himself why he couldn't here a sound. Why wasn't Angelina stamping about the house shouting all the curses under the stars? He straightened up a little and made his way towards the stairs. Before he took the first step he pointed Kyla in the direction on the downstairs bathroom. "Go get ready in there." He ordered, and marched up the stairs, his jaws clenched.

"Aye!" Kyla shouted to his retreating form, and skipped merrily into the bathroom.

Montague got up to the first landing and found his room an absolute mess. It was expected of a woman like Angelina to get revenge on him through trashing the place. He shrugged and closed the door behind him, checking every room on that landing before marching up to the next.

That's when he heard it.

"Piss off you fucking imp! Shoo! _Shoo!_ Get away from me or I swear I'll chop you in half and serve you up in a some back street restaurant! _Move!_"

Montague pushed the door open and inspected the scene before him. Angelina was scrambled a top a wardrobe in one of his several spare rooms, one of his shoes--one of his favourite--brandished dangerously in her hand as she pressed herself up against the wall, trying her hardest not to fall off the wobbling wardrobe and plummet into the open mouth of his pet snake, Sicily.

When she saw him--for once--her eyes danced in delight. "Help!" She breathed, whispering as if the snake wouldn't hear her. "Montague, get that thing away from me!"

Montague shook his head and leaned casually against the door frame. "And what do I get in return?" He teased, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

Angelina narrowed her eyes dangerously, she might have pounced if there wasn't a snake hissing some feet below her. "I'll give you a fucking kick up the ass!"

Montague shrugged and rolled his eyes, sighing as if she'd just chosen to end her life instead of sleep with him. "Suit yourself. I have an appointment you've forcefully made me have to see to." He turned around and was about to leave when two things happened.

Angelina yelled; something he thought sounded like: "No don't leave me here!" Though he wasn't quite sure, then there was the crash, and Sicily--in a frantic change to get away--slithered her way over to her master and climbed up his leg, wrapping herself protectively around his neck.

He jumped and spun around. Before him, the wardrobe Angelina had been huddled on was dropped and smashed, and Angelina was sprawled on the other side of the room, apparently having made a jump to safety before the wardrobe hit the ground.

"Now how I am supposed to get to my magical land of Turkish Delight!" Montague shouted, though couldn't help but smirk at his own retort.

Angelina rolled over on the ground, sitting up she rubbed groggily on the back of her neck. "I hate you Montague, I really fucking hate you."

"Yeah but you love me when I'm giving you all I've got." He snorted, and Angelina gave him the finger.

That's when Kyla waltzed up the stairs, dressed in nothing but her underwear and a towel wrapped around her waist. She looked over at Montague, stopping in the hallway and placing her hands on her hips. "Is everythin' alright? " She smiled. "Ah heard th' bang frae downstairs an' thooght Ah mit check up oan ye."

Montague's eyes twinkled. "No, everything's alright." He answered with a reassuring smile. "But I think I should introduce you to your rival." Kyla gazed at him in question and he indicated to Angelina on the other side of the room. "This my darling, is Angelina, Angelina this is Kyla." Both woman looked at on another curiously, and not before long the fires were thrown.

Angelina was the first to start. "Oh Montague," she cackled evilly to herself, doubled over in laugher "don't tell me this is a prostitute?" Walking a little closer,--though not too close as she didn't feel like disturbing the snake--she folded her arms and stood cockily in the middle of the room. "If you really wanted me that bad, why didn't you just say so?"

Kyla practically fumed from her corner by the door. "Fa ye callin' a huir ye wee slag!"

Montague sniggered and Angelina's eye's drew in question. "Run that by me again--"

"Yoo heard whit Ah said!" Kyla yelled. "Whit ur ye daein' haur anyway? Yoo're nae wanted! Gie it afair Ah flin' ye it! Montague speart me haur, nae ye! Gang back tae wherever ye cam frae ye wee causey rat!"

Montague winced for effect, but Angelina still didn't get it. "Would you PLEASE speak _English_?" She turned to Montague in a rush of fury. "What did she say to me?" She demanded an answer but Montague only shrugged. He liked what he was seeing, it was the little bit of entertainment he'd had in, oh let me see--**TWO DAYS! **

When he didn't answer her Angelina turned back to Kyla. She herself was suddenly jealous. Jealous of the fact that Montague was about to willing sleep with another woman, and even worse, was letting her curse her in some other language. Little did Angelina know Kyla was only speaking the native dialect, but then again, they always said Gryffindors were the second dumbest after Hufflepuff.

"Get out!" Angelina shrilled. "Get out of my house!"

Montague looked stunned. "Your house?"

"It's my house when I'm being forced to live in it." She spat.

"Who dae ye hink yer talkin' tae?"

"Oh save it Keisha."

"My names KYLA!"

"Who gives a flying fuck?"

"LADIES!" Montague stepped in between Kyla and Angelina, his hands raised in gesture for them to be quiet. Then he laughed. "Can't we all just get along and have threesome?"

Angelina practically boiled. "MONTAGUE!"

He faked a sighed. "Fine, fine. Whatever my pretty." He turned to Kyla and shooed her away as if she was some breed of dog. "Get out." He ordered simply.

Kyla's eyes widened in fury. "WHAT?"

"You heard me, I said get out. You're no longer needed. Sorry for the disappointment, I'll drop five pounds by you the next time we bump into one another." He smiled sweetly.

"Yoo've got tae be kiddin' me! Yoo'd raither hae 'er than me?"

Montague shrugged. "Any day."

Kyla pointed an accusing finger in his direction, prodding it as hard as she could into his chest. "I'll hae th' McQuilkin clan efter ye! Ye mark mah words!"

Then she turned and left. Five minutes later the downstairs door was slammed shut, and neither Angelina nor Montague had moved. Angelina stood in the same spot, her foot tapping angrily against the floor and her arms still crossed. Montague simply stood and watched her, that cocky grin assembled onto his features.

It was Angelina who was the first to break the silence. "Was you really going to sleep with her?" She asked, her mouth set into a frown.

Montague shrugged. "Maybe."

She issued a disgusted noise from the back of her throat. "You're a fucking ass whole then."

He laughed. "And why's that?"

"Because you are." She shrugged.

Montague nodded in acceptance. "Fair enough, wanna get pissing drunk and give me the best night of my life?"

>>>>>

Angelina had said no at first. Why would she say yes? She was fed up and thriving with jealously. She hated that she was, but didn't like that fact that Montague was about to replace her with another woman. No matter how much she stressed that she hated him, he was still her secret sex God and no one else's. End of story. So when Montague started pouring out the drinks, things started getting a little steamy. Clothes were ripped off, and they bit and scratched one another in a haste to make it to the bedroom. Both drunk out of their minds.

It was when things really started to get into play, that Angelina remembered something vital. Something she always did, even before having sex with her fiancé. She felt she didn't want his baby yet.

"The contraception charm." She slurred, her eyes focused on four different Montague's.

"The what?" Montague couldn't pull himself away from her neck, his hands roaming up and down between her legs. She giggled when he hit a certain spot.

"The contraception charm." She said again.

Montague moaned, he was a little dizzy. "Oh that, do you remember what it is?"

She chortled as he nibbled hungrily on her ear. "No."

"Then it's a good thing I have one of these Muggle things." Quickly he reached into his back pocket and reluctantly leaned up. "Here, let me put it on."

>>>>

Angelina woke up a few hours later, her head felt grave and her body stiff and sore. She turned on her back and watched as Montague slept by her side, the blankets carelessly thrown over his body. Her eyes scanned the tip of the room and roamed about the clothes on the floor.

That's when she saw it. Lying flat beside the bed, dead and used. She closed her eyes again, thinking that she might get in a few more hours sleep when something passed through her thoughts and they shot back open.

"Oh my God. . ."

Angelina screamed and Montague jumped quickly out of his sleep. She jumped out of the bed in a panic, the sheets hastily wrapped around her body as she made weird gestures towards the condom, expecting Montague to understand when his eyes weren't even in proper focus yet.

"What are you on, woman?" He groaned but she only continued to scream. Pulling on her hair and jumping about the room in a hysterical state.

"Fucking hell, would you shut up?"

"You don't understand!" Angelina yelled, pointing towards the used condom, her eyes wide with panic.

"What don't I understand?" Montague moaned, turning to her slowly enough so as not to hurt his head.

Angelina pointed towards the condom then to her stomach. Condom. Stomach. Condom. Stomach. Condom. Stomach. She attempted to wordlessly explain.

"Just say it before I strangle you for making me dizzy!"

"Montague!" She wailed so loudly the birds in nearby flew away in a haste. "IT'S **SPLIT!**" She couldn't keep herself calm. "YOU SPLIT THE **FUCKING **CONDOM!"

* * *

For all those who aren't familiar with the Scottish dialect, here are the translations (I had to use a translator for those myself):

Kyla lines:

1."Oh pure Montague, ur ye sure abit 'at?"

"**Oh really Montague, are you sure about that?"**

2."Ye cooldn't e'en say awrite, Montague? Hoo lang hae we knoon each other? Ye cooldn't e'en invite me home? I'm sure Ah cood cheer ye up."

"**You couldn't even say hello, Montague? How long have we known each other? You couldn't even invite me home? I'm sure I could cheer you up."**

3."I tryst Montague, ye won't regrit thes."

"**I promise Montague, you won't regret this."**

4. "Mmm Montague,#

"**Mmm Montague, I'm telling you you've made the right choice, I'll give you the time of your life."**

5. "Ye hae a bonnie home."

"**You have a beautiful home."**

6. "Is everythin' alright?"

"**Is everything alright?"**

7."Ah heard th' bang frae downstairs an' thooght Ah micht check up oan ye."

"**I heard the bang from downstairs and thought I might check up on you." **

8. "Fa ye callin' a huir ye wee slag!"

"**Who are you calling a prostitute you little slag!"**

9."Yoo heard whit Ah said! Whit ur ye daein' haur anyway? Yoo're nae wanted! Gie it afair Ah flin' ye it! Montague speart me haur, nae ye! Gang back tae wherever ye cam frae ye wee causey rat!"

"**You heard what I said! What are you doing here anyway? You're not wanted! Get out before I throw you out! Montague asked me here, not you! Go back to wherever you came from you little street rat!" **

10. "Who dae ye hink yer talkin' tae?"

"**Who do you think your talking to?"**

11. "Yoo've got tae be kiddin' me! Yoo'd raither hae 'er than me?"

"**You've got to be kidding me! You'd rather have her than me?"**

12. "I'll hae th' McQuilkin clan efter ye! Ye mark mah words!"

"**I'll have the McQuilkin clan after you! You mark my words!"**


	4. Episode Four

**Episode Four: The Second Chase**

Once Fred and George had shooed everyone out with the excuse that they had family arrangements, the duo sat themselves in the flat above their shop, two mugs of hot chocolate placed in front of them both.

George took a sip out of his mug, all the while his eyes squinted dangerously at Fred, who had been avoiding eye contact with his twin for a long time now. George rested his mug on the potion stained table and gave his brother a once over. "Would you like to tell me why Parkinson is after Angie, Fred? You know she's my best friend too, I care about her as much as you do."

Fred watched his spoon self stir his hot chocolate for a while before speaking. "I don't know why Porky's after her." He answered true fully, but George wasn't having it.

"So why do I keep on getting the feeling you're hiding something from me?"

Fred sighed. Digging deep into his pockets he fished out the crumpled letter he had received from Angelina earlier on that morning, and threw it sulkily over to his brother. George was always the more sensible of the two.

Through a mouthful of biscuits, George skimmed briefly over the letter before flattening it out on the table and shaking his head. "At least we know she's safe." Fred nodded his agreement. "But she wanted you to hand this over to Matthew, or at least the message-"

"Yeah," Fred retorted "but where would be the fun in that?"

George swallowed before answering. "There wouldn't be," he decided "that's why I'm going to lock this it away and forget I ever saw it."

Fred practically beamed. "So we're going to have a little fun with him then?"

"Of course," George nodded, a sinister smile creeping its way onto his lips "he's gonna pay."

Fred cackled. "Regret the day he ever walked into this shop and called us poor."

Then--rather spookily--a sheet of lightening tore its way through the darkened sky, eerily illuminating the cunning red heads sat plotting revenge over their mugs of hot chocolate--one cup mysteriously stirring itself.

Their last words were spoken in unison: "He should have never thought he could mess with the Weasely's."

That whole week, Muggle Londoners just couldn't understand what was happening to their summer weather.

>>>>>>>

Kyla paced up and down her living room while she waited the arrival of her seven brothers. Sure, they weren't the greatest seven to have to associate with, but in times like this, she was thankful for their witless state of mind.

Looking up, she saw that the last of her brothers were emptying themselves into the room. Kyla stood up straight and readied herself for the task ahead of her, hoping that her brothers were ready too. She needed as many as possible to accomplish what she wanted to do.

Taking a deep breath, she let her orders be heard. "I want you to get rid of Nathaniel Montague." She declared, and watched over her brothers perplexed expressions with bubbling loath. She hated having to live with this dotting lot.

"What?" Asked Kieran, digging deep into his ear and picking out the wax, then playfully rolling it between his fingers before flicking it across the room.

That's when Kirk spoke up. "Isn't that the one who brought the cottage?"

Kyla nodded. "Yes!" she exclaimed. "And he's made a fool out of me! I want you all to show him that no one messes with the McQuilkin's!"

"Why?" Kyle asked. "I wouldn't sleep with you if you asked me either."

The room swelled with laughter and Kyla turned the same complexion as her hair. "I want revenge!" She shouted. "Don't you want to help me get it?"

"Well, it depends what's in it for us." Said Rowland from his seat by the door, and everyone nodded in agreement.

Kyla had to think about this to herself for a second. She hadn't really thought her brothers would want something out of this. All the glory would go to her once Montague was run out of his cottage and away from the village, but she couldn't do it all herself.

She should have known. . .

Kyla sighed before realising she would have to share the riches with her brothers. "When we get him out of the house, we can take everything he has for our own!"

"Now that's more like it!" Someone yelled, and the room suddenly buzzed with excitement.

Kyla didn't know it, but right then, the smile that assembled itself onto her lips gave her a great resemblance to a certain Parkinson.

>>>>>>>>

Montague's eyes were wide with horror. "What do you mean I split it?" He croakily asked, hastily jumping into a pair of trousers that had been thrown carelessly onto the floor only the night before.

Angelina shook her head in defeat. "You split it Montague!" She exclaimed. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know when the man they were sleeping with split the flipping condom!" Her voice rose towards the end of the sentence.

Montague walked around the side of the bed and looked down at the new exhibition. Then he gulped, the Adam's Apple lolling up and down in his throat. This was not good. . .

"So I guess that means you're going home?" He subtly suggested, wearily scratching the back of his head.

Angelina looked up at him through eyes of daggers.

"**WHAT?**"

Montague shrugged. "What's the use of all this if you're pregnant?"

"_You're_ telling **me**," Angelina shoved him in the chest "that now that I could be pregnant, you're letting me go home?"

"Well yeah I suppose." He said casually.

Angelina fumed, steam practically hissing out of her ears . . . "You little bastard!" She screamed "Where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to tell Matthew when I give birth to a baby that clearly isn't his?"

Montague rested his hands on her shoulders in gesture to calm her down. "Hey, don't worry about it." He said in his most favoured reassuring tone--it did nothing for her temper. "I promise I'll pay Wizards Child Support-"

_**-SMACK-**_

Angelina's hand connected with his face.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?" Montague yelled, his jaws clenched. He could feel the sting of her hand print embedded in his cheek.

"Wizards Child Support my ass!" Angelina shrieked. "You'll be paying double, 'cause I'm not going anywhere!" With that, she marched over to the bed and sat herself on it, stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest and adjusting the sheet she had before wrapped around her body.

Montague's fists formed balls by his sides. "Get out." He growled.

"No." Angelina said stubbornly, her head held high.

"Angelina I mean it." Montague stepped in closer. "Get out or I'll throw you out."

That picked at her attention. Her head snapped in his direction and she glared at him with a look that told him she wasn't afraid of him. "I'll chain myself to the walls." She declared.

Montague snarled. "Chain yourself to the walls and I'll bulldoze the house."

"Bulldoze the house," her eyes narrowed "and I'll haunt you for the _rest_ of your miserable life."

That was it.

Montague strode over to the bed and stood over her seated form, attempting with all his will to dominate her, but Angelina wasn't having it. Bravely she got to her feet and looked up at him, her expression reading that she was at no time ready to crack under his threat.

She could feel the anger sweltering out of his body. "You _cannot _drop me like anyone of your other whores Montague."

"Oh yeah?" Montague raised an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided grin. It was probably only coming from him, but right then he could feel a sudden friction between them that was rubbing off and slowly turning into a sexual chemistry. But then again. . .he had to remind himself that with Angelina, almost everything turned into sexual chemistry.

"Try it," Angelina lowered her voice to a deep and throaty purr. Probably to sound threatening, but on Montague the effects were somewhat different "and I assure you you'll loose."

The hair rose on the back of Montague's neck, and he allowed himself to take a step closer. "I thought you knew me by now Johnson." Leaning in, he rested his forehead against hers, making sure to look her directly in the eye. He knew it got to her when he did that. "I don't loose in anything, bitch." He warned callously. "_Anything._"

Then he pushed her. His hands coming up from his sides to shove her forcefully onto the king sized bed. Angelina let out a little squeak when she found herself bounce up and down on the bed. She attempted to recompose herself when Montague grabbed a hold of her ankles and roughly spread her legs apart.

Angelina almost blushed. "_Montague!_" She squealed, and tried to cover herself. "Talk about brutal!"

Montague leaned in between her and pressed himself onto her lips, his hands keeping a strong hold on her ankles and pushing them up by her head. She giggled when he caressed the inside of her thighs.

"If you don't want me to be brutal," He muttered between kisses "you shouldn't get me so horny."

Angelina sniggered evilly at that. "I thought you said I should get out? Maybe I should do that now."

Montague shook his head and belligerently turned her over on the bed, she giggled as his hands wandered over her body in a haste to find the knot she had tied in the sheets to cover herself with. When he found it he had to stop himself from feeling all _too _happy.

"That's when I thought you might be pregnant." He declared, wiping the hair out of her face before undoing the knot in her sheets and letting it slide off of her body. The site of her made him growl. "Fuck I hate you . . ."

She shrugged and rolled back over onto her back, about to grab the sheets to hide under again but Montague was too quick. Speedily he knocked them out of her hands. "I hate you more Montague, trust me when I say that."

Her words only seemed to make him happier. Roughly, Montague cupped his hands under Angelina's chin and pulled her into him, pressing his lips harshly against hers. It became a battle of dominance until the wanting became too strong willed and desirable that Angelina pulled away. Her breathing harsh in an attempt to calm herself, the back of her hands wiping vigorously over her flush lips.

Montague leaned in for more, but she stopped him, a hand held firmly onto his naked chest.

"What is it now?" The look in his eyes told her he wanted answers.

Angelina shook her head and this time did manage to cover herself with the sheets. She wrapped them about herself and sighed. "What if I _am_ pregnant?"

Montague let out an irritated groan. "Are we on that again? Listen, Angelina, you're not pregnant."

Angelina raised a curious eyebrow. "How do you know that?" She questioned.

Montague racked his brains for a quick and suitable answer, the bulge in his pants urging him to hurry. "Because last night I said the Contraception Charm before we did anything."

"What?" She glanced him over once or twice, though he could tell there was a hint of happiness edged into her voice. "But you said you didn't remember it."

"After, Angelina After!" He was getting a little frustrated. "I remembered it afterwards, but you were so out of it you probably couldn't hear me."

Angelina practically beamed. "I'm not pregnant!" She cried, scrambling to her knees in order to plant kisses all over his face. "But are you sure you did it right?"

Montague sighed. "I'm positive."

"Absolutely positive? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"What?"

"Just say yes, Montague!"

"Yes woman, yes! Now could we _please_ get going already? You're killing me here." He gestured to the bulge in his trousers and Angelina grinned mischievously.

"Whatever you say, big boy."

**>>>>>>>5. M O N T H S L A T E R**

Angelina licked her spoon of its remaining ice-cream and let in clatter to the kitchen counter the moment she was finished with it. "I can't believe you got me pregnant." She growled, something she had got to saying after she was riddled with the morning sickness, back pains and horrible cravings.

Her stomach was huge, not something she'd ever seen on a woman who was five months pregnant before. She figured she was either going to give to a very large baby, or even worse, more than one.

"You lied to me you little shit."

Montague sat across from her at the counter, picking up her spoon and finishing what was left of the vanilla and raspberry ice-cream. There wasn't much left in the tub. "Whatever Angelina. You were up for another round as much as I had been. And the moment you give birth to that thing you're paying me back for all the shit you've made me buy."

Angelina grinned at that. The moment they had found out that she was definitely pregnant--which was decided one afternoon she was sick all over his new carpet, Angelina had demanded a new wardrobe, and her cravings had proved more than expensive. Her new clothes filled over two spare rooms in the cottage, and Montague was usually forced to go on shopping trips with her down to the local supermarket, where she would complain she couldn't lift anything heavy in case she pulled something and hurt the baby. Each time he cursed her under his breath, his wand never too far from hands reach.

Montague had never been so tired in his life. The morning he woke and found he was forming bags under his eyes, was the morning he realised he was doomed. He had never been so white, had never went a day without combing his hair or without scoring by the end of the evening. He remembered being a rather good looking young man, who woman had tended to pawn over. . .

Montague felt like killing himself the moment he realised the good old days were gone. What was he thinking? Messing with a crazy ass woman like Johnson? He didn't know, but for the last five months all he had wanted to do was send her on the earliest train back to her good old fiancé.

How he missed Matthew Lewis-Thomson.

He didn't think he could take anymore of this.

"Don't call my baby 'thing', Montague." Angelina reached for a fresh tub of ice-cream and peeled off the lid. "I told you, she's called Tiana."

Montague sniggered. "Yeah right. How do you expect to call a boy Tiana?" He picked up an extra spoon and helped himself to some of her ice-cream. "I'm calling him Montague the third."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you believed that old hag when she said I was carrying a boy?" She licked her spoon clean before digging for another scoop.

On one of their weekend trips down to the supermarket, an old lady had stopped the couple and told them they were to be expecting a baby boy. Angelina had discarded her predictions without any thought, as the woman had claimed she was a witch, but couldn't tell them anything about the arts when they had asked.

"She's a fraud." Angelina had said, but Montague wasn't having it.

"I told you you were having a boy, Montague first borns are always male." He proclaimed.

Angelina shook her head. "Well Johnson first borns, are always female."

The first witches knowledge was tested that same evening, when yet another strolled up to the duo on their walk home, announcing that their first born child will definitely be a baby girl. Montague had felt a little conned, as she had no sooner demanded payment for her prediction.

"I don't believe anything any of those Muggles say," answered Montague "but I can bet you now, you're not having a girl."

"Oh bugger off Montague, just remember whose the one carrying the load." Angelina sighed and hopped off of her stool. Supporting her back with one hand she strolled over to the window and looked out at the view. Her mind often wondered to Matthew when it had nothing else to do. She had sent about a thousand letters already to Fred and George, and hoped every night that they were at least passing on some kind of message to him.

What Angelina couldn't see, was the stack of letters piled one on top of the other in the house above the Weasely's little joke shop. . .

"Ooh Montague!" Angelina clapped at the fiery display she could see from outside the window. About eight or nine red headed Scotsman were marching their way towards the cottage, long sticks of fire wielded skilfully in each hand. "You didn't tell me today was some kind of Scottish celebration day!"

From his corner in the kitchen, Montague ate the last bit of his ice-cream and tossed the tub into the bin. "What are you on about, woman?" He jumped down from his stool and ambled over to the window, standing by his pregnant favourite affair. "Today's not any-- **_ooooh shit!_**"

Angelina gave him a weary glance. "Then who are those people down . . .Montague?" She leaned over the window ledge a little more to get a better view. "Montague, why are those people trying to break into the cottage? Did you invite them or something because they don't look very clean--"

"They've come to kill me!" Montague yelled, almost ripping out his hair in a frantic haste.

Angelina's eyes grew wide. "You little idiot!" She shouted "You couldn't tell me you had hit men after you before you brought me here and got me pregnant!"

Montague rushed around about the room in a hurry to find his wand. He upturned sofa's and pulled out draws. . . "I didn't _have _the Mcquilkin's after me before you came on the block! If I had just slept with that scab the moment she had begged, I wouldn't be in this mess!"

Angelina folded her arms and began angrily tapping her foot against the ground. She ignored the pounding of wood against the downstairs door and looked over at Montague with daggers for eyes. "What do you mean by 'in this mess' Montague?" Her mouth set into a dangerous frown. "Because if you mean me and the baby, no one told you _not _to sleep with her. You have your own will!"

"MY OWN WILL WAS WANTING **YOU**!" He screamed. "I didn't _want _to sleep with her! Now will you stop whinging and help me find my fucking wand?"

Angelina chewed angrily on the inside of her lip. "Check your back pocket you idiot."

Montague lifted up and felt around in his pockets for the familiar instrument.

_**-BINGO-**_

Good. He had his wand, this was good progress.

_**-BOOM-**_

The cottage shuddered under the force the Mquilkin's were using to break down the door, and Angelina almost lost her balance.

"We're coming after you! Run while you can Montague!" They heard Kyla shouting from outside the window, though Angelina didn't pick up the general meaning behind the sentence because she was still yet to get a grasp on the common dialect.

She gripped onto the window ledge to keep her balance. "Please don't tell me you're going to kill them all, Montague? They're just Muggles who are a little confused at the moment, I'm sure if we negotiate they'll under-"

"_We're going to kill you Montague!"_ Came a voice. "_And take all your money too!"_

Montague waltzed over to Angelina and put out his hand. "I'm not going to kill anyone, because I don't fancy a cell in Azkaban thanks. But hold onto me tight, I'm going to Apparate us out of here--"

"What about my clothes? And all your money." Asked Angelina once she was held onto Montague as tight as she possibly could.

"You can get new clothes, just hold onto me. My money is safe."

Angelina nodded. "Good, cause once this kid is born you'll be the one paying for everything." She ignored Montague's scowl and shrugged. "Don't look at me like that, you plant the seed and you pay for the seed. Simple as."

And with a **_-POP-_** they were both gone, once again on the run from yet another one of Montague's crazy fans.

I wish I could tell you they both knew where they were going, but in his haste to escape, Montague didn't have a clue. . .

>>>>>>>

Pansy jumped out of her sleep and quickly wrote down what she was certain was a memory. A memory only her dreams could let her get to, as at times her awake state of mind was too fussed to ever let her think straight.

She remembered his exact words: "Yeah, I have an old cottage house in Aberdeen. I sometimes go there when I don't want anyone to know where I am." Then he had smiled at her "Maybe we could go down there some time, just you and me . . ."

Pansy picked up her wand, and quickly Apparated out of the house.

>>>>>>>

Angelina landed softly on wild green turf, the smell of untamed grass itching at her nose and making her sneeze.

**_Aachoo! _**The birds nested in nearby trees flew quickly away, and the tiny flies buzzed frantically around her face.

That's when she opened her eyes properly. . .her jaw almost dropping to the ground. "Montague?" She tugged hard on her companions arm to get him to pay her some attention. Attention she felt she really _really _needed right then. Montague looked down at her with an expression that mirrored her own. An expression of sheer confusion. She didn't think he needed it, but right then she felt she had to say it. It would go perfectly with their current situation.

Angelina took a deep breath and screamed: "WHERE THE **HELL **ARE WE!"


	5. Episode Five

**A/N: **The first thing I'm going to say is, thank you all for the reviews. It's your reviews that motivate me to keep on writing. Secondly, I'm going to appologise for taking so long to update this. I'll give a brief explanation. By the end of Episode 4 I was with finished secondary school and I had exams. After my exams I had the added worry of getting into college, plus those day to day issues that seem to plague my existence. Once I got into my college, I had to start thinking about University. I'm STILL thinking about University, but right now I think I've earned some time off. It's holidays, and all I want to have to do is drown myself in some good fanfiction. If I don't manage to update then it's because I'm at work. But I WILL update. I have the rest of this story planned out already, so I'm hoping to be finished by the end of the summer holidays.

I hope those who reviewed and enjoyed the other Episodes enjoy this one just as much. I'm sorry in advance for any stupid spelling of grammar mistakes that I may have missed, but I wrote this so quickly, I just wanted to update! Thanks again. **ASQ**.

* * *

**Episode Five: A Clan of Ginger Woman and Matthews sudden Madness.**

Angelina was finding it hard to breath. She looked about her and tried to find something that looked remotely civilized. Grass, grass, a little more grass, tress and oh look a mountain!

"_Please,_" She panicked "tell me you know where we are."

Montague scoffed, seeming slightly offended "Of course I know where we are-"

Angelina looked questioning. "Oh," She exclaimed and a false smile danced onto her lips "then you won't have any trouble getting us back home!" She gripped onto his arm tightly and waited for him to Apparate.

Montague stalled.

"What are you waiting for?" Angelina pressed, her fingernails digging into his arm.

"Well," he began, wracking his brain for a suitable answer. "I don't think we should Apparate when you're pregnant. You might risk leaving Montague behind-"

"I thought you didn't give a shit about this kid, Montague-"

"I _don't_!" He yelled.

"Then you shouldn't have a problem Apparating us _back_ then, should you?" Worry crept up her throat and it tasted bitter.

Montague looked away.

She couldn't believe it, she _really_ couldn't believe it. Five months ago if she had known, if someone had bothered to drop her a clue that she'd be five months pregnant with Montague's child, stuck in a wilderness somewhere with nothing around for miles … she would of _at least_ bothered to use better protection!

Angelina took off her new slippers (Montague had been forced into buying them for her the day before the McQuilkin's had started to raid their home), and raised them dangerously into the air.

Montague caught onto the oncoming threat a little too late.

"What the-"

_**-PHWACK-**_

"BITCH, WHAT WAS THAT FOR!"

_**-SMACK-**_

The sole of Angelina's slipper collided with the side of his head.

"STOP HITTING ME YOU RETARD!"

_**-SLAP-**_

That time she used her hand.

"Bitch!"

"WANK, STAIN!" Angelina yelled. "Do you know where we are Montague?!"

When he didn't answer she continued to assault him.

"STOP, _**IT**_!" He warned.

"MONTAGUE!"

"I SAID STOP!"

"MONTAGUE!" Her hand came down faster this time.

_**-SLAP-**_

_**-SMACK-**_

_**-SMACK-**_

_**-SLAP-**_

"NO!" Montague yelled, his arm shielding his face.

_**-SMACK-**_

That's when he decided he'd had enough. "I SAID NO!" He yelled at the top of his voice, and exotic coloured birds resting in the nearby tries took to a hasty flight. Montague vigorously tore the slippers from Angelina's grasp and threw them far, far away. Realisation smacked him hard in the face (even harder than Angelina had) "I DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE!"

His face was red with rage. Spit flew from his mouth onto Angelina's cheeks and her bottom lip began to quiver. Bile was creeping steadily up her throat. She could smell doom in the air.

>>

George yawned. Walking over to the door he turned the closed sign to face the street and pulled the curtain over the glass.

He turned around to the small shop and looked around the room. Everything seemed to be in place, the Skiving Snackboxs were stocked neatly on the shelf in front of him, the Extendable Ears hung rather eerily from the ceiling and a man with a wild beard and tired eyes stood watching his from the corner of the room.

George screamed like a girl.

Jumping back he clumsily knocked over the display of Ton Tongue Toffee's and reached hurriedly into his robe pockets, pulling out his wand.

"Has she made contact yet, Fred?" The man moved in closer and George crawled backwards on the floor.

"Stay back!" He warned, his voice dripping with terror.

The man took another step forward. "Fred, it's me-"

"_**Expelliarmus**_!"

The wild man was thrown back with great force, his back hit a high shelf and he tumbled to the ground. A groan escaped his lips.

George was eyeing his handy work when Fred came stumbling down the stairs.

"What the bloody hell's going on!" Fred cried, quickly buttoning up his blue flannel pajamas. He scanned the area quickly, looking slightly perplexed. "Err, George? What did you do to Matthew?"

George sighed, and collapsed back onto the floor.

>>

Angelina refused to cry. She could get through this, she could. All she had to do was find her slippers, then she'd head north until she found some trace of civilization. She could get through this.

Quickly she turned away from Montague and started scanning the near by area for her grey slippers.

"What are you doing?" Montague asked, his eyes following her.

Angelina frowned. "I'm looking for my slippers."

"Right," Montague sighed as he watched her look. Her hand was supporting her back and she waddled nowadays instead of walked. "Well, I threw them somewhere over there."

Angelina nodded and walked further out towards the edge of what looked like a forest. She wasn't going to talk to him. She didn't think she could. It was his fault they were out there, in the middle of nowhere, the sun beating down on her skin as if it was trying to peel it off, the constant feeling that instead of a human she was carrying around inside of her a potential baby mammoth…if she got any bigger she was certain she would explode.

AND WHY COULDN'T SHE FIND HER SLIPPERS?

Surely there was a way she could get herself out of this mess. Montague's owl would find him soon, and if she could just get her hands on a quill and some parchment she could send Fred and George a letter concerning her current situation. Right. That's what she'd have to do. They'd come for her and she could run away from Montague and never have to see him again. That sounds like a plan! Now she just had to do was find a quill and some parchment.

She looked about the ground. There was grass, lots of it in fact, but she couldn't see anything remotely useful, and her slippers were still nowhere to be found.

"Err, Angelina."

_Shut up Montague_, her mind hissed. She didn't need his crap right now. He'd put her in enough mess.

"Angelina," He said again, this time a little more sternly "Don't move."

Angelina lifted slightly and her back went ridged. She felt Montague come up behind her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. What was going on? She dared herself to look.

>>

"He's a fucking weirdo!" George hissed under his breath, while Fred boiled the kettle.

"You don't think I know that?" He turned to George, but kept a watchful eye on Matthew. "He's obviously started to go mental. He smells a bit funny too."

George rubbed the back of his head. "Do you think we should tell him about Angelina?"

"No." Fred said quickly. "I mean, we don't know anything ourselves really."

George nodded. "Right then." He said, and looked briefly towards Matthew, who was now staring into an empty mug. "But I think we should put him out of his misery."

Fred looked aghast. "Are you suggesting we kill the bugger?"

"No you twat," George rolled his eyes "We should tell him that Angelina's left him."

Fred almost looked hopeful. "Do you think she has?"

George shrugged. "I bloody well hope so."

>>

There were about twenty of them. All emerging slowly out of the woods and forming a circle around Angelina and Montague. Each and every one of them had red hair, and sparkling green eyes, a weapon wielded dangerously in each hand.

They looked like wild forest people. Amongst them were only woman, runes and ancient symbols drawn with black ink and mud all over their bodies. The first thing Montague realised was that the woman tended to like going topless around these parts…maybe he could ditch Angelina and get himself in on a few of them. He chuckled inwardly, that sounded like a plan!

He felt Angelina step in closer beside him.

"Who are you?" A woman with wild red hair and stern sea green eyes stepped forwards. She spoke in a strong Scottish accent and looked as though she may be leader of this clan. Montague found himself drawn to the mounds of flesh protruding from her chest.

_Fuck, me!_ His mind screamed, and he had to move around a bit to stop the growing urge that was suddenly awake in his pants.

He felt Angelina squeeze his hand in a vice like grip. "I know what you're thinking, Montague." She said heavily, her voice low and dangerous.

Montague looked slightly annoyed. He stepped away from Angelina but she only moved in closer. "Stop tailing me, woman." He growled.

Angelina looked about her, she was trembling and her eyes were wide. She didn't look at Montague when she spoke. "Don't you _dare_, Montague. Don't you dare leave me alone with these people! They'll kill me and eat my baby…"

"I asked you a question." The woman snapped, looking over at the duo through narrowed eyes. Angelina didn't understand a word.

"We got a bit _lost_-" Montague started to explain.

"I saw you just appear! Like magic!" A voice from behind them cried.

"What are they saying, Montague?" Angelina trembled.

"What are you?" Someone else yelled, and they all seemed to take a step in further.

"Well, we're-"

Then it happened. There was a gasp and everyone froze. Even Angelina stopped trembling for a second or two. Montague wished she'd let go of his hand.

"The woman is with child!" Someone cried, and suddenly there were murmurs and excited chatter about the females.

The expression on the woman's face that had approached them earlier had soothed. She was looking over at Angelina with gentle smile on her face. Or at least she hoped it looked so.

Angelina on the other hand was trying to swat away anyone who was attempting to grope at her stomach. _"Oi! Stop it! Stop I said! Montague, tell them – Oi fuck off!" _

"My name is Aithne." The woman said gently, her eyes settled on Angelina's stomach. "You must forgive my clan, it isn't often we get to see a woman with child around these parts (due to the lack of men). Amongst our people it's a very…" She searched her mind for a suitable word "magical phenomenon. The birth of a new life."

Montague nodded. "Well, if you want more kids around here I'm more than willing to hel-" Angelina elbowed him in the ribs "_the fuck_ woman calm down."

Aithne raised a curious eyebrow. "Is she always this on edge?" She asked, eying Angelina questionably. They'd been waiting for this day for so long now, it was hard for her to contain her excitement. She wished the other woman would calm down a bit; the dark woman looked as though she might loose her footing at the sight of them. The man however, looked easy to persuade.

"Always." Montague rolled his eyes.

Angelina didn't trust them. Something wasn't right. There was trouble brewing, and while Montague used his gentiles to think instead of his brain, she was practically a one man army.

She stepped closer to Montague and felt him move slightly away from her. She loved how, now that she was pregnant, he didn't seem to give a shit. She wasn't worth while to him anymore. She found herself wondering how many children he must have in the country that didn't know he was their father. Angelina rested a hand protectively on her stomach and all the woman around her flinched.

She had to get out. No one was going to get her baby.

>>

"I mean think about it mate," Fred said, scratching the back of his head. George yawned. "A woman doesn't vanish off the face of the earth for five months and not get in contact with her fiancé."

Matthew raised a curious eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Said George quickly.

"Nothing at all" Said Fred. "It's just, me and Forge here, we think it's time you should move on-"

"Check what other fish there are in the sea." George filled in.

Fred nodded in agreement.

Matthew took a while to answer. He looked over at the twins and pulled out his wand. "I'm going."

And with a _**-POP-**_ Matthew Apparated out of the room.

Fred looked over to George. "Well that was easy."

George looked sceptical. "A little _too_, easy."

>>

I hope no one forgot about Pansy.

Her search for Montague had found her in Scotland, outside a rather prestigious cottage house in Aberdeen. The front door had been knocked down, and inside was a state. Furniture had been knocked over and pieces parchment were scattered about the floor. A snake lay sleeping peacefully in one of the armchairs.

Pansy stood in the doorway of Montague's cottage and thought for a moment. She had overheard some gossip in the local Pub about a woman called Karla who had led her brothers to raid a man's house nearby, hell bent on revenge because apparently he had refused her for someone else. When the family of them raided the house, the man and his current lover were no where to be seen, and the McQuilkin's had found none of the riches they had been promised. Angry at the great waste of time, Karla's family ran her out of their family home, and apparently she was now Prostituting herself somewhere in Glasgow.

Pansy put two and two together. She was now, apparently at Montague's escape haven, and it was a mess. Karla's raid had only taken place the day before, and apparently that's when Montague and his lover had vanished as well.

Pansy smiled. She was getting closer.

**End of Episode Five**


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